


Reminiscent

by YsaX64



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is a ball of sunshine, Angst, Canon Compliant, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Family Problems, Gore, Lotor (Voltron)-centric, Lotor is tired (TM), References to Abuse, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 21:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16584485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YsaX64/pseuds/YsaX64
Summary: Lotor normally doesn't dream.Usually, he is too tired for any dreams. Even when he does, Lotor learned quickly that to survive on his circumstances, he couldn't afford to be a heavy sleeper.However, as things calm down after his position as Emperor was taken, Lotor has a nightmare.





	Reminiscent

**Author's Note:**

> Well.  
> Now that was a fun experiment. Also, there ay be some disturbing imagery in this fic, so I advise to proceed with caution.  
> Now that is estabilished, I hope you have fun!

Lotor, the 34th Emperor of the Galra Empire, son, and successor of Zarkon, was dreaming.

_"Master, I've come to seek your guidance."_

_Lotor stood before a short figure. Nothing more than an imposing, blurry image, just a small, yet commanding shape, melting into the ivory throne in its white and blue robes. The half-breed slowly halted his steps, catching his breath before the long rows of stairs that led to the master's throne._

_He breathed in heavily, inhaling the scent of smoke from the braziers in each column of granite. The throne room extended white, its rug bearing a bluish shade that couldn't help but make him sick. Lotor looked down, as the master glanced on him from all the way up on her pale throne._

_Lotor felt a shiver down his spine, even as he went down and kneeled. Her gaze was unyielding, as he felt the burning stare pierce through his clothes, through his flesh, through his bones. Resting his elbow on his knee as he bowed down, Lotor couldn't help but feel the seconds ticking._

_Then, a voice spoke up, "Tell me about your journey then," Slow, steady. Perhaps too calm. This stillness was an oddity, for Lotor was a man bred in war, even if he took no more joy from such brutal, irrational practices. The carnage and the screams in the battlefield had raised him, and the blood had nurtured him better than any other, but it was time to leave it behind. In this unsettling throne room, the lack of senses numbed him, so it didn't take long for him to feel his mouth dry, his throat raspy as he tried to speak, even if without looking up._

_"I was once a man of wealth and of war," Instinctively, he looked up, seeking for any reaction from this wise master. He let out a sigh noticing no apparent change in the short figure, which was still reclined languidly in her ivory throne, "I have seen the error in my ways, as I now despise my previous actions on behalf of violence, for I seek peace of mind and of those I brought calamities upon."_

_"I see the truth in your words."_

_Her voice was an oddity in and on itself. Lotor came to the disconcerting realization that he could barely recall how she had sounded before. It had something on it, a pitch he couldn't point out and he relished on her voice, trying to remember how it sounded. Once she finished talking, however, he felt a chill run down his spine, as he could not distinguish her speech from the hisses of the braziers or the rustling of the azure rug beneath his feet._

_Almost as if she was one with the room itself._

_A dry taste settled in his mouth, nothing else in the room to fill the silence for a few seconds, as Lotor tried to recover his voice, "Once I had many possessions, but I have sold everything, from the greatest spoils of war to my smallest coins."_

_Lotor coughed the smoke from the braziers intoxicating his lungs with a pungent, yet sweet smell. His throat was raspy as he continued, "As for the money, I donated it to the poor, making of my slaughter something productive. I kept with me just enough money to guarantee my survival, so now all I can ask for is guidance."_

_As he stiffened, Lotor withstood his position with grace, not daring to meet the blazing eyes of his master. He had no right, with his bloodstained hands, to glance back at her._

_A few seconds ticked into minutes, as Lotor's will quivered. The white of the room was blinding, oppressing even as he closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, the invasive light was unyielding, but he withstood his ground._

_He had done too much and walked too much to give up just then._

_"So be it. I shall teach you my wisdom," he looked up in surprise, only to find that his new master had not bothered to change position, her arms stretched languidly in the armrests of the ivory throne, "Go to the nearest city and sell every single one of your possessions,"_

_As Lotor remained stoic and focused, she continued, her voice echoing in the lonely throne room, "Then you shall buy all of it in meat and tie it to your body, and only then you may receive your first lesson."_

_And so, Lotor bowed down, thanking his new master with grace. He traversed the throne room, leaving the empty, ruined castle behind. It wasn't long before he walked all the way the sinister forest surrounding the building, nor it took much time to reach the nearest village._

_He had passed by without much care since the master he sought for was just within reach. Lotor smiled, as he emptied his pockets and bought it all in meat and a single rope. Tilting his head, the half-breed allowed his fingers to trace the cord, playing and pulling, guaranteeing it would not rip apart before he reached the castle._

_Lotor had brought a fair amount of meat, he noticed as the strong, metallic smell invading his senses. Clutching all of it in his arms, the half-breed pondered if that was the lesson to be learned. After all, he was receiving some stray attention, a consequence of his bloody smell and the ropes in his hands. He ignored it, knowing in the depths of his mind, that he was doing what had to be done, what had been commanded to him._

_He grinned to himself, narrowing his eyes as he stared up ahead with pride. It was no matter this unwanted interest. He was following his duty, finally on the first step to burn his past to ashes._

_Once Lotor got far out of any other person, he found himself surrounded by trees, a forest so thick it seemed to melt and merge within itself. Even the grimy smell of humidity and hummus didn't faze him, his brows furrowed in a perpetual state of tension._

_So he started working with the ropes and the meat._

_The thick, red fluid dripped out of parts, dripping off his fingers and infecting the air with that metallic scent. First, he mechanically unrolled the rope, feeling the fibers brushing on his fingers. It was a dirty work, the meat refusing to stay in place against the fabric of the tunic, wetting the cloth causing discomfort and disgust to rise on his throat._

_With a grimace, Lotor gave up trying to tie up the meat and took off the tunic. It did not help alleviate the suffocating humidity, as the red had tainted his skin even beneath the fabric. He let out a sigh, the stifling heat stealing the breath out of his lungs as he got back to work._

_It was an obnoxious job. The ropes insisted on slipping out of his grip and his expression tensed at each passing second, as his task that once seemed so simple was taking this long. Gritting his teeth, Lotor forced himself to continue his labor, as his master had commanded. It was nothing he couldn't deal with. He had inflicted carnages worse than a few pieces of lambs and cows._

_He passed the rope, rolling it twice on each part, on his arms, on his legs and finally on his chest. Lotor noticed with a grimace that he had long lost the sense of time, lost in this maze that hardly could be called a forest; it was more of an organism on its own._

_His only luck was that the castle in ruins was massive enough so he would not get lost easily, less than two hours to get back. Nightfall was still far, he thought with a tense smile. With his body prowess, it should not take long for him, even with the extra kilos of muscle he had just acquired._

_Lotor then started walking, his steps echoing in the otherwise oddly silent forest. He had not noticed before, but his eyes narrowed just to think about this deafening silence. A forest, especially one as humid as that one, should be filled with insects and lizards, at least. Even he, no specialist in forests of any kind, already knew something was wrong._

_The scent of blood took possession of his senses, dulling his sense of smell even in the stagnant air. His eyes started darting out from side to side, his battle instincts awakening. Lotor gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes and forcing himself to stare up ahead as soon as he noticed his mistake._

_But it didn't take longer than a few loud steps between branches and bushes for his eyes to track every flicker of movement, every leaf that fell, his breath labored between his parted lips._

_His muscles tensed, as a branch broke beneath his feet, making a particularly loud sound. His back stiffened, his red-coated arm reaching for his hip. A few seconds passed, the man stilled in position, the warm of the meat soaking his chest in red._

_Upon noticing the reach he had attempted, Lotor hissed a low curse, putting his arm back to the side in a rapid motion._

_The feeling of the meat gripping on to his flesh was odd, disgust diluted in the quiet rage boiling in his very being. He raised his right hand close to his face, clenching and unclenching his fist with increasing frustration._

_He was on the edge._

_It wasn't hard for him to realize, yet with the still air and the gritty scent filling the air, it was impossible for Lotor to ground himself back to reality. Suppressing a growl, the half-breed soon realized it was foolish to waste more time. He had to complete his task and he would not yield until he was standing in front of that very throne, warrior instincts be damned._

_Lotor stilled._

_This time, there was no dead leaves, no branch beneath his feet. The sound, on the very threshold of his hearing, was no louder than a feather, Lotor all but wondering if he had imagined the sound._

_He heard it again._

_It was different from anything else he had heard, yet it bore an uncanny similarity to a memory from another time. The steps of his soldiers, as he led the men to an ambush against the enemy forces._

_Silence and blood._

_The pounding in his ears forced him to bit the inside of cheeks, his steps now slowed to a crawl, each passing second of stillness disrupting his already fragmented and enraged mind._

_Then something pounced at him. Out of the thick woods, barely giving him time to raise his arms in a panic. The teeth of the beast sunk into the meat and into his flesh, Lotor biting down a scream of surprise.  Lotor's eyes meet the ones of the beast and a shiver ran down his spine._

_Blue eyes, a contrast against the snowy fur, the teeth glistening against the tore muscles, the white of Lotor's bone a sharp contrast to the sanguine jumble of lamb and man. The heavy paws of the lion forced him to the ground. The earth smacking against his back as the full weight of the beast was forced on him._

_He squirmed beneath the beast, instincts on full panic. The lion relented, ripping off a mouthful of lamb and man. Lotor spared a glance at his right arm and there is barely any time for the bile to rise on his throat. Red egg yolk covered his arm, the white bone showing up in between the shades of crimson._

_There was no time for reflections, even if he felt the burning on his throat rising. He would surely never wield a sword again, but his mind was racing with adrenaline. With the prospect of survival._

_Lotor got off the ground, resisting the temptation of shutting his eyes in pain. He still winced, noticing that it was now impossible to move his fingers._

_His eyes are tracked on the beast, even if he could felt the trembling of his knees. He wasn't going to outrun a lion, even if he was on his prime. Most certainly not terrified, with an arm mutilated and smelling of lamb and pork._

_Yet the lion stood there, idly biting on to that mixture of lamb and human. Blue eyes glancing at him, soft and tender. The odd paradox sends a shiver of Lotor's spine, his breath ragged and uneven._

_He had no time to reflect on it. A rustle in the woods behind him and Lotor found himself in the ground. His hair was now stained with blood, blocking his vision. Before he could even understand his position, Lotor felt teeth sinking on his back._

_The lion was still in front of him, lazily eating up the meat. Lotor felt a pull on his muscles, the sound of skin and the flesh ripping off. He withered by instinct, but It was no use. The first beast growled and pounced his back, ripping the air of the lungs and stilling his struggle._

_The dirt beneath his face was a sharp contrast to the wetness in his back._

_The disgusting sound of crunch, of grinding. Lotor bit the inside of his cheeks, his other cheek pressed against the hard ground. Lamb, pork, and man indistinguishable from one another. Soon, there was nothing._

_Such a statement wasn't precise._

_Nothing from the hips down, but the wetness of the blood and the sound of the ripping flesh was still consuming his mind. No adrenaline could ever contain the panic of being eaten alive._

_Lotor, in a last act of despair, forced his neck, trying to use his good arm to get up._

_In front of him, stood his master._

_Clad in white and blue, his teary eyes couldn't distinguish the true form of the figure. Instead, all he could see was her eyes, eyes full of sadness and pity._

_He could not stand it._

_Anger bubbled in his chest, the half-breed trying to find in himself the strength to answer to her in fury, to curse her for the betrayal._

_Lotor felt a tug on his back, pulling his body backward. His arm wobbled, sending his face to encounter the dirt, muffling the scream of pain ripping his throat. He shut his eyes, facing the stars exploding his eyelids._

_Amidst the haze of pain, the fallen warrior felt a soft touch, adjusting his head to the side and stroking his cheek. Brushing with utmost gentleness the dirt and the pebbles out of his face. With difficulty, Lotor opened his eyes._

_His master was almost face-to-face with him, stroking with a dark hand his cheek, a more tender touch than any other he had ever received. He could see her mouth moving, but his mind was far too gone to understand it. Vision darkens._

* * *

 

 

Lotor woke up.

His body jerked in instinct, kicking the blankets clinging to his body. The Emperor was trapped in between the dream and the reality, the sweat drenching his body too similar to the heat of the woods. With a quick tug, the sheets were away from his body, allowing the cold of his chamber to cool down his heat.

Yet his mind still raced. Eyes darting side to side, looking for a threat. His hand was fumbling with the side of the bed, looking for his trustful sword.

Lotor's breath was ragged and uneven, mirroring his confused state of mind. Without any thinking, his body tumbled out of the soft mattress, looking for a bathroom. It didn't take long before he was kneeling on the toilet, vomiting his guts out. Over and over again. After there seemed to be nothing more to throw up, he continued to gag, until there were just drips of saliva and stomach acid dripping from the corners of his mouth, more like yellow egg yolk.

It was repulsive, the acidic feeling lingering in his mouth. As if Lotor needed anything more to disgust him. The smell infected the entirety of bathroom, leaving the Emperor to wonder bitterly if that would have been the same putrid "perfume" had those beasts ripped out his guts. But it was no use to dwell on such thoughts, kneeled in front of the toilet and facing the pieces of meat and the sickly yellow of his last meal.

He growled, still feeling the burn on his throat and nose, his knees wobbling as he got up. Lotor had to bark a laugh, finding himself face-to-face with his reflecting. Hair matted, perched over the sink like some sort of gargoyle, the yellow of his eyes sickly.

He desperately tried to clean himself up with water, but it was no use. The acid still burned his throat, leaving him soaked and uncomfortable. In a vain act of despair, Lotor found himself clawing his neck, in a fruitless attempt of dissipating the discomfort. Nothing happened, except it hurts and now there was a metallic scent pairing alongside the vomit.

Useless.

Suddenly Lotor rose up, staring at his reflection in the mirror, the same one he had seen for so many years to no end. He looked like even more of a freak than before, the markings on his neck a testimony of the true dangerous lunatic before the mirror.

Lotor barked a laugh, narrowing his eyes and showing off his fangs. He truly looked like a maniac. The Emperor had to wonder what his father would think if he saw his son this way. An insolent, pathetic whelp, he probably would think.

Lotor shook his head. It didn't matter.

His father was dead. Lotor had killed him. He was Emperor now.

Lotor turned on his heels, going back to his room with renewed determination. His throat continued to burn, as he let out a snarl. It was clear that going back to sleep wasn't an option, so he might as well make some use out of the rest of the night.

"Lotor?"

The screen flickered in front of him, revealing the Princess Allura of Altea herself. She was smiling, her curious eyes focused on Lotor. The Emperor allowed himself a small smile, straightening his back in order to maintain a proper posture.

"Hello, Princess." His eyes snapped to the tiny clock on the bottom of the screen, before darting back to her cerulean gaze. "Up already?"

She laughed, averting his eyes with a timid blush, "Well, I had little sleep today," She straightened her own posture, meeting his cobalt gaze again, "I was about to ask the same to you. You stayed to work on the ship after I left and now…" A glint of concern shone through her eyes, as she muttered, "Already up and running. Have you—Have you had enough sleep?"

Lotor smiled, pleased with her observation. Allura always managed to prove herself more. "I do need less sleep than you or your Paladins, Allura. Thank you for your concern." The words slipped out of his mouth with ease, Lotor observing as her shoulders relaxed with his response. It was not that he had lied to her. He indeed needed less sleep; he was already used to not sleeping at all. Nonetheless, as he felt the tension of his own neck, he couldn't deny that the dream was still looming over his mind, the lack of sleep paying a toll on him.

Still, the Galra forced himself to look at Allura, as she opened her mouth, as if to make him a question, before being interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, "Hm, excuse me, you two?"

The Yellow Paladin perched out over Allura's shoulder, as she gave him a dry side-glance. Hunk fidgeted in place for a second, before swallowing and saying, "Hm, I think we were going to call the ‘Oh so great and handsome Emperor Lotor' for a reason, Allura, just saying."

Lotor huffed a small laugh, that went unnoticed by the Princess as she glared back at her companion, "I was about to say it, Hunk." She snapped her gaze back at Lotor, clearing her throat as she continued with a relaxed expression, "Lotor, we've been trying to access the library here since Hunk seemed to be interested in Galra History, could you give us a little help?"

Lotor blinked slowly, surprised at the request. Most of the Paladins seemed to have some distrust or disgust of the Galra and their culture, so it was indeed curious to see two of them so interested. The Princess seemed to misinterpret his hesitance, so she widened her eyes as she blurted out, "Oh, no, it's fine if you have something else to do, I mean—"

In a rare display of impatience, Lotor cut her off, "It's fine." He inhaled, his eyes softening as she looked back at him with dreamy eyes, "I'm ahead of my schedule already, so I will provide you two with some company."

She blinked rapidly, openly staring at him before her lips parted letting out a sigh, "Thank you, Lotor." And so she turned off the call, leaving Lotor with only the maze of data and screens in front of him. He had moved from his room to his usual office in the middle of the night, decided to put his mind to work in order to forget the dream of last night.

But the silent snarls seemed to have followed him.

He shifted uneasily in his chair, letting out a low oath as he got up. His body was still sore, the night providing him with no rest. It was a terrible disadvantage, one that could have cost him his life had him been on his exile. Nonetheless, the Emperor shook his head, taking a cup of water from the desk. He drank slowly, savoring the feeling running down his throat.

Lotor knew there was no point thinking about it.

Sendak was far away, alongside the witch. The war would be fought away from the Central Command and away from him, as of now. The truth was that Voltron was too powerful of a weapon to be underestimated and the Paladins were favoring him. For now, he could afford this mistake.

He put the cup aside, turning on his heels, out of his silent office and into the hallways. His eyes darted from side to side, observing the methodical movement of the sentries, the averted gazes of the servants. Lotor narrowed his eyes, taking a moment to observe the movement.

He kept walking, the servants bowing down as he passed by. The silence paired heavily in the air as if it was a fog clouding his eyes. Lotor suddenly snarled, a servant wincing right on his side. He felt like his senses were dulling, overtaking his mind.

As if he was some sort of child, groveling like a dog for his father's mercy.

Those days were left behind. Yet walking on the halls of the Central Command, this unchanging, unyielding place that seemed to reflect its true master, he couldn't avoid the memories. As a child, he had walked through those very halls, but in different circumstances. He had been scorned, ignored. Lotor had to wonder how many rumors he had heard about himself. The mouse born out of Zarkon's blood. The weakling, no fur or scales.

Some had said that the wretched appearance on the outside was just the manifestation of the weakness inside.

Now he walked proud, the flames burning in the Kral Zera the very proof of his power as Emperor. But it seemed to not matter at all. They still avoided their gazes, looking away from him.

Lotor curled his hand in a fist, the claws digging on his palm. He knew that if he pressed any stronger, it would draw blood. He didn't care. The Emperor kept walking down the corridors, a single purpose in his mind. Allura had called for his help, it wasn't in his position to leave her waiting.

Still, once the movement became scarce, the hallways empty except for the sound of his own footsteps, Lotor heard something. From the threshold of his hearing, a step echoed.

And another.

Lotor shivered, his eyes darting from side to side. He was aware of the possibility of assassins, he wouldn't put such a thing past his rivals or worse, the witch herself. But he knew, in the back of his mind, that it was no Galra looking for the throne, or rebel suspicious of his allegiance with the Voltron Coalition.

His breath hitched, as he saw in the corner of his eyes a bloodied beast walking past him. It seemed like a canine of sorts, its dark fur covered in red ooze. My blood, Lotor acknowledged in instinct. Yet, despite his battle-hardened instincts, he stayed walking forwards, observing as the creature outpaced him, his paws leaving bloody footprints on the ground, the metallic smell flooding Lotor's senses.

Then it disappeared.

Lotor gasped, taking a step back over the sudden fading. The beast left no trace it had ever walked those halls, taking his red marks with him. Before Lotor had time to ponder on the vanishing creature, a voice cut off his mind.

"Lotor?" The question paired in the air, Allura with her head turned to him, an inquiring look in her eye. Her companion, the Paladin, seemed to be still staring at a hand pad that locked the immense, metallic door leading to the library. Lotor shot one last wary glance to his sides, before straightening his back and meeting the Princess' gaze.

"Yes?"

Allura furrowed her brows, tilting her head to the side in confusion, before looking back at the door in front of her. "It's nothing." Lotor approached the pair, the tenseness on his back never leaving as he looked back at Allura. She continued, scoffing a short laugh, "Could you give us a hand here?"

He let out a small laugh, extending his palm toward the pad, observing as it lit up and connected to the door. The purple light shone through, opening the entry for the two Paladins to explore. Both of them seemed to be looking in awe, as the Galra symbol unlocked for them.

Hunk looked hesitantly to Lotor as if asking permission to enter. The Emperor offered him a tired smile, extending his palm in an inviting gesture. The Yellow Paladin seemed to need no more incentive, entering the room with a curious glint in his eyes.

Not that Lotor could blame him.

Zarkon had made a certain effort to preserve Galra Culture in a way that favored him. By locking it away, hidden in a corner in Central Command that only the Royal Family and a few trusted ones could access. He knew it by hand, every book and every screen. The number of shelves was uncountable and still, Lotor knew each of their secrets. Secrets his father would never let him have access had he known the son he had.

 Lotor furrowed his brows, his cobalt eyes feeling something out of place. He couldn't exactly point out what, but he knew better than to ignore the old, hardened voice of his instincts in the back of his mind.

"Hm?" Lotor snapped his eyes back at Allura, who was still standing outside the door, in awe. Of course. He had gone there to serve as her company, not to bite the air like an animal.

"Do you want me to guide you?" He offered, trying to take his mind off the tingling on his legs, the phantom feel of fur brushing against him. Allura's gaze snapped back at him, the corners of her lips curling up in a pleased smile. "Of course," she said excitedly, seeming to radiate her happiness, "I admit that I'm curious about everything that happened in the time was asleep. I'm afraid my studies in Galra history are terribly overdue."

Lotor nodded, his expression softening despite the tired lines on his face, "Of course."

Perhaps he needed her company as much as she needed his, in the end.

The Emperor offered his arm to her and she took the offer gladly, and Lotor walked alongside her, guiding through the library. The place was brighter than the rest of the Central Command, but it was still much darker than what any Altean or human was used to. He wondered if it defied the whole purpose of such place for the Paladins, but Allura seemed to be shyly looking around, not caring for the surrounding darkness.

His footsteps echoed in tandem with hers, as the two of them walked with a comfortable quietness. Lotor had lived for very long in the silence. He had lived the terror of tyrants, endured the exile and persisted against the worst of odds. Nonetheless, the silence was the blank canvas in which his mind painted his deepest fears.

It was easy to lose himself in the silence.

Lotor looked around, recognizing each shelf. Galra chants, sung with instruments that time forgot. Recipes with ingredients that would never be seen anymore. Forging instructions of metals that were lost. Useless. Useless information that once sculpted a culture.

His eyes averted to Allura, whose eyes were wild and curious. His expression softened, deciding to keep himself silent for a while longer. Her culture didn't have the same luck. Lotor had to wonder, relishing on the feeling of her hold on his arm if she noticed how much of the knowledge there stored had been lost to time.

Lotor let out a sigh, drawing her attention. Allura turned to face him, her grip on his arm tightening ever so slightly. He smiled at her, hoping that the tiredness that he felt taking his body wasn't as apparent. Fortunately, she merely smiled back, seeming to exude radiance in that room, ever so dark and morbid.

The library was a place of knowledge, something that he appreciated, but for Lotor, the price for knowledge had always been the same.

Pain.

He narrowed his eyes, observing the dimly lit room with avid eyes. Looking for something different. Lotor had memorized each book's place, every screen and every pad. All seemed untouched. It bore this uncanny similarity every time he entered; all in the same place. Unchanged and ancient. Lotor had to wonder if Allura noticed it, the eerie feeling creeping on his back, as he observed her from the corner of his eyes. She was drawing her fingertips across the shelves, observing the metal as they passed by, unaware of the heaviness in Lotor's stomach.

The Emperor reminisced of a past long gone, one in which he had dared to go too far amongst this shelves, to discover more about himself than his father would ever permit. He had paid the toll for the knowledge he had snatched that day. His jaw clenched, wondering if he wasn't paying the price for his curiosity to this day. At that moment, Lotor sank his claws on his palm, feeling the warmth of his blood. So similar to the bites of the beasts.

A soft tug on his arm and his eyes snapped back to her, schooling his expression. Allura was looking back at him sheepishly, stopping in her tracks, "Lotor?" The Princess tilted her head to the side, putting a stray bang behind her ear as she spoke, "Can you show me some of those books?"

She gestured to the side, showing a corridor with shelves on both sides, and Lotor knew instantly why she had picked this specific one. Old scriptures. Old enough that he barely understood what they were about, but that Allura recognized. Archaic enough that she may understand what was written.

A shiver ran down his spine, but he merely widened his eyes in surprise, carefully unlacing his arms from behind his back. Lotor blinked slowly, answering her with calculated care, "Of course, Princess. However, I'm afraid some of those are," he took in a deep breath, gazing back at her as she stared at him with a timid fondness, "Outside my realm of knowledge."

The magnificent glint in the Princess' eyes did not leave her, as she smiled back at him. "Then we shall discover it together, Lotor," she spoke, her voice softer than a bell. Yet the words felt as if she was dragging a dagger on his side, ripping his ribs off his body. We. This word meant union, the two of them, together.

The thought was foreign to Lotor. He tensed, his back straightening in surprise.

But she didn't even seem to notice, boldly walking in front of him, letting go of his arm.

He followed her, the shelves and the books seeming to create a heavy fog. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, his throat raw and burning as if the acid of the vomit was still there. He had to wonder if it wasn't, as his knees trembled with fatigue.

But Allura didn't seem to care, tiptoeing with grace, looking for a book that caught her fancy.

Lotor furrowed his brows, a weary expression on his face. It was just the fatigue of the night. It had to be. His eyes darted from side to side, one of his many habits that would take long to let go. The bookshelves, full of knowledge lost to the past, seemed to stare at him.

The Emperor had to ask himself if they still recognized the runt of a boy that hid in those same places. He knew his father certainly did.

He shook his head slowly, extending and distending his claws. It was useless to focus on the past, even in that room that seemed so saturated with his father's presence. Instead, Lotor forced himself to focus on the Princess right in front of him.

Allura.

She was walking slowly now, looking back at him and smiling, as if giving him the time to keep up with her. He nodded back at her, hoping that the weariness that had settled on his bones wasn't apparent. She just kept smiling, looking up and down before the screens, the logs, the books.

Lotor raised his hand, absentmindedly drawing his fingers across the crumbling covers of the books, the frigid glass of the screens. The blood still felt fresh on his hand, the cuts he had inflicted deep enough so that the tingling feeling had stayed. His eyes drew back to her, as she put a finger on her chin, looking up as if trying to decipher these scriptures of old.

He wondered if she knew that few Galras that could read those. Relics of a past long lost, killed by Alfor and buried by Zarkon. He blinked slowly, observing distantly as she got on her tiptoes, trying to read the cover of an old book. Ancient, he corrected himself. He scoffed a laugh, wondered how older the tome was than the two of them.

Yet she seemed to not care, squinting her eyes to read what was written with rapt attention.

Allura was a herald of radiance. A radiance that shone through an era of peace that Lotor never met. She was the very embodiment of that "Golden Era", the era of Voltron. Peaceful and loving. He wondered how much she had changed as she lived through the era that Zarkon had brutally forged on the universe.

Lotor bit the inside of his cheeks, observing as she walked without a care in that dark, morbid library. The realization sank in. Allura had tamed this room. "Lotor?" When she talked, her voice melted with the room, echoing in the silence. The Emperor could hear the excited steps of the other Paladin in the distance, but it did not matter. It was Allura who was there in front of him, blinking in curiosity and tilting her head to the side.

He blinked. "Yes, Princess?"

She tilted her head to the side, her shiny blue eyes staring back at him, "You're out of yourself," she said, with the certainty of a statement, "Are you alright?"

He turned to her, betraying nothing in his expression. He couldn't afford to.

"I'm afraid I am more tired than usual, Princess." He said, hoping that this phrase would shut down her worry. Her eyes squinted, flashing some unreadable emotion, but she said nothing. Allura turned to the side, picking up a book, its brown cover torn from use.

"A March for Warriors," she said, looking up to him expectantly. He nodded, agreeing with her pronunciation. Even if her voice was too soft for the harsh sounds of the Galras. "Indeed, Princess," he remembered that book vaguely, perhaps having read it four or five times, "A book of chronicles and parables, meant to teach a young warrior the ways of the mind, not the ways of the sword."

 She nodded, tracing her fingertips alongside the letters mutely. Lotor had to wonder if she knew that such knowledge had vanished from the Galra military. Lotor shifted on his feet, observing her. The darkness on the dimly lit library did not suit her. Allura seemed out of place, radiating a genuine curiosity and easiness of mind.

Yet she had tamed this dark place, not caring about the shadows that flickered and danced alongside the purple lights. Allura seemed untouched by them, turning the pages of the book with care. Lotor couldn't help but admire her. She radiated such light, both blinding and alluring. Just like the books surrounding them, the Princess was a relic of a past long lost, frozen in time. Unlike Lotor, who had fought and who had suffered within this universe forged by someone else.

So different from him. So distant of him.

"What is this?" She raised her hand from the book, holding it open with one hand. Lotor stepped back. And they stayed for a few seconds in this position, the Emperor frozen in time, her hand unmoving close to his throat. Her eyes were soft, patient. His heart raced. Yet Lotor closed his eyes, yielding. Allowing her.

 Allura touched the side of his neck, drawing her fingertips across shallow cuts. The ones he had ripped open this very night. His eyes widened slightly, but he would not have survived childhood had he not learned how to hide his wounds. Lotor smiled, cradling her hand with his own.

"Nothing worth worrying about, Princess," He expected her to drop the subject and leave him to lick his wounds by himself. She did not. Her hand drew back, but as soon as Lotor dropped his arm to the side, she caught his hand. Allura narrowed her eyes, turning his palm to her. The bloodstains were enough proof of what had happened there, but he could see that she had also inspected the wounds, three crimson points. His hand jerked away quickly. Lotor wouldn't show her his injuries. He couldn't afford the price.

Her eyes dropped, as Allura took in a deep breath. Lotor's back tensed, his eyes snapping to his legs. A brush of fur, soft and wet. Yet there was nothing there. Just the phantom feeling lingering. Lotor blinked rapidly, his mind in disarray, but he recovered quickly. The Emperor straightened his back, breathing in for a quick excuse for his terrible rudeness, but Allura had averted her eyes to the ground.

 "How do you feel about Zarkon?" The sudden change of subject surprised Lotor, but he knew better than to let it show. He schooled his expression, crossing his arms behind his back.

"My father is dead, Princess."

Yet sometimes he could still feel him. Even if he was six feet under. Strangling him. Breathing down his neck, observing his every move with disdain and scorn. Lotor stood up to him once. He paid for his mistake dearly. "Dangerous lunatic," they said. "Insolent whelp," he said. The lives of an entire planet that was the price he paid. He could not afford the same happening to those who shared with him his mother's heritage, his heritage. So he didn't allow it to happen.

The white lion.

The white lion had appeared beside Allura, staring back at him with those eyes of blue. Lotor's eyes snapped to Allura, but she didn't acknowledge the beast's presence.

Lotor shook his head slowly.

"There is nothing else to feel about it."

Allura nodded, her expression as unreadable as the lion that seemed frozen in time, like a menacing statue.

"I may not fully understand you, Lotor," he could notice, by the crease between her eyebrows, that she was measuring her words with care, "But I've been through something fairly similar."

This time, Lotor was the one to arch a brow.

"And what would that be, Princess?"

Allura took in a deep breath, as Lotor observed each move of her shoulders.

"My father left, in the depths of the Castle of Lions, an AI meant to carry his legacy and guide me through my journey," She blinked slowly, casting her eyes downwards where the white lion stayed like a sculpture, yet she saw none of it, "At some point, he got corrupted and attempted to…" She trailed off for a moment before inhaling sharply and continuing, "Take me to him. I had to shut him down."

Allura let out a sigh, the bright light in her eyes flickering. Lotor tilted his head to the side, hesitating for a moment. The Princess noticed his reticence and blurted out, "Of course, it isn't as harsh as yours. I just meant to—"

With those words, the white lion pounced at him. It closed its jaw around his leg, the sound of ripping flesh echoing in the morbid library. Yet, against all his instincts, Lotor didn't move. Sweat glimmered on his face, the tension slipping through his next words, as he looked into those hopeful blue eyes of hers.

"I would dare to say your trial was harsher than mine," His jaw clenched as a metallic sense flooded his senses, yet he refused to look down, "Which one is nobler, to have and renounce it or to have never had?" 

With this, Lotor dared to look down, but there was nothing to see. The lion had disappeared, leaving only the phantom pain in its stead. He took in a deep breath, before looking up once more. Allura was staring at him, eyes glimmering with hope. He scoffed a laugh, stepping closer to her tiredly. Then he extended his hand to her.

"Allow me to show you something, Princess," Allura merely arched a brow, before handing over the book to him. The Emperor let out a breath, remaining perfectly still if not for the hand turning the pages. Then he found what he wanted.

_"A man passes by a house in flames_

_There is another man inside the house_

_‘Why don't you go out the house?' says the first_

_The second then answers, a smile on his face_

_‘It is raining. I might get sick if I go out'_

_Wise is the warrior that can change his situation when he is forced to"_

Lotor recited it, word by word, while Allura observed with rapt attention. He looked up from the book and the Princess was gazing at him with tenderness. He chooses his words with care, whispering just loud enough so she can hear, "In this aspect, Princess, I am inclined to believe that you're the wisest between the two of us."

She seemed to emanate radiance at that very moment, a relaxed expression on her face.

"I'm not so sure about that," Allura said, a self-deprecating laugh escaping her lips, "For the longest time, Lotor, I've held a grudge of the Galra. Zarkon…" She trailed off once more and Lotor allowed her the space to continue, "He betrayed my father. He took my family from me. He destroyed all of Altea."

_Not all of it._

His mind snapped in response, but his expression betrayed nothing.

And he said nothing.

He could feel the weariness in his legs, in his mind. The lack of sleep was paying its toll on him, as he caught from the corner of his eye a rustle of grey and blue fur. Lotor blinked and it was gone.

Allura put a stray bang behind her ear, "Because of him, I scorned all of the Galra. Including a friend of mine and had I kept going with this behavior—" The Princess stopped herself, her shoulders tensing as she let out a sigh. Lotor inhaled sharply, before staring the bookshelf just in front of him as he talked, "Trust is the runt of the emotional litter. Under harsh conditions, it's usually the first to die."

He snapped his gaze back at her and allowed himself a small smile as he continued, "Do not blame yourself for what did not happen, Princess," she smiled at him and Lotor took in slow, deep breaths, "We can only be guilty of the things we are to blame."

Her smile widened. A herald of radiance. A messenger from a time long gone, showing Lotor what it could have been. She took his hand in hers. The harbinger of peace. Her hand shone in white, healing his self-inflicted wounds. For a moment, Lotor closed his eyes, allowing her to touch his neck too. It was magnificent. The feeling of her soft skin, caressing and healing his wounds. It was strangely soothing. Lotor let out a sigh through his parted lips. But the sensation was short.

She let her hand fall to the side, leaving him cold, and when Lotor opened his eyes again, her smile was bittersweet, "I won't ask," she averted her gaze to the side and he felt the impulse of tilting her chin back to him, but Lotor knew he couldn't afford the price that came with it. Vulnerability. Instead, he stiffed his back, his limbs feeling heavier with each passing moment.

"I know I have no right to ask," Allura blinked slowly and he felt a pang in his chest, but his expression betrayed nothing, "But I would like you to know that…" she trailed off as her hand found his, the same one that she had just cured. His hand felt warmer, as she squeezed it reassuringly, "You can be honest with me, I know I've said that you've scorned a friend of mine before, but… I trust you, Lotor. I would like if you… trusted me too."

Lotor's breath hitched, weariness clear in his eyes as he almost spoke too much.

"Princess?" Allura quickly let go of his hand, leaving him cold, as her companion spoke right behind them. She turned to him, a brow quirked over his unusual behavior.

"Uhh, Allura, didn't we, you know, agreed on meeting early with everyone today?" Hunk fidgeted with his fingers, seemingly aware of his inconvenient timing. Allura looked back to Lotor and he seemed to be still dazed, flexing his fingers as if testing the sensation.

"Will we meet later to work on the ship?" She asked, an edge of hope escaping her lips. The Emperor smiled at her, his shoulders dropping down as he whispered, "Of course."

Allura's smile widened. Beaming. But it was short-lived. The Princess turned her back to him, leaving with her companion. Lotor observed her movements, staring as she seemed to exude radiance. Until she left, the door locking behind her silently.

Lotor was alone.

How ironic.

Earlier in his life, being on the library alone was a blessing. Lotor got the message early in his life that his very existence was more an aggravation than a blessing. So he tried to please. And he got kicked. Down and down, over and over again. The invisibility he acquired by hiding in those corners was his safest haven during his childhood, be it of the witch's relentless eyes or his father's unyielding disdain.

At that moment, as an adult, it seemed suffocating. As if he was a child again, hiding the pieces of knowledge he had. Concealing his very existence. Now he was an Emperor, with Voltron as an ally. This past had to be buried.

_The rain falls, but can't wash away the mud._

The phrase ringed on his mind, but Lotor just clenched his teeth, finding himself with his back against the bookshelf. He was terribly tired, the heaviness on his limbs almost too much to bear. His ear twitched when he heard a sound.

Growling.

He looked to the side, barely turning his head as he gave in to exhaustion. That beast, a dog or any other canine. Snarling at him, the righteous fury shining on his eyes, the gleam of the reddish saliva glimmering in the dimly lit library. And yet Lotor just stared back at his yellow eyes, expecting the attack.

It never came.

Instead, the beast started circling him, its white teeth bared. Lotor didn't react to it. He started to turn the pages of the book, the darkness around him almost suffocating. Then his eyes widened as he stopped in a particular page.

_"A wise warrior lived in the desert_

_One day, a young man came to him, asking for guidance_

_‘Sir, I sold all I had and gave it to the poor._

_I kept with me only enough to ensure my living'_

_Upon hearing those words, the warrior told the man_

_‘Go to a village and sell everything_

_Buy meat and tie it to your body_

_Then you may come back to me'_

_And it didn't take long before the man came back_

_Bruised and torn from the vultures and dogs that attacked him_

_The warrior commented only one phrase_

_‘Those who take a new step and keep part of their old selves end up consumed by their past"_

And so the beast pounced.

 

* * *

 

 

Lotor didn't know if what he was experiencing could be called a dream.

It was hard to define if it even could be sleep.

In that void of nothingness, he was trapped, drifting in and out of conscience was a common experience, up until the point that the very word "time" lacked any concept.

Time had always been biting on his ankles, taking everything from him as he tried to hold onto it.

It was like grasping on to water and seeing it slip from his grip, as he tried to hold on just so a moment could take a little longer. It never did. Not before, at least. Not when Lotor was looking into her eyes. Not when he felt her soft lips on his and heard her yielding whimper and admired her smile when they parted. Now it did. Mocking him, as time had no more meaning, as everything just was white and energy.

The very same energy, pumping through him like an unholy, tainted blood, kept him alive in this senseless emptiness.

His body hurt, but that much was all that held him into sanity because when chest rose to take air in, his lungs burned with the excess and the lack. Because when he flexed his fingers, extending his claws just to confirm they were still there, he felt the resistance of his muscles, as if they were swollen and blistering, but there was no wound to be seen.

He could barely muster the strength to open his eyes because even behind his eyelids, the white was suffocating.

That moment, however, whether it was a dream or memory, the pain it brought on to him was more than any broken bones or gaping wounds could ever hope to muster upon him.

And he screamed.

Out of pain, out of madness, out of rage.

It mattered not to the void. The void didn't scream back, leaving the broken man to wonder if he had ever screamed at all.

All Lotor felt was the lingering bites of the beasts, ripping his skin without ever touching him.

**Author's Note:**

> As I said before, this was an interesting experiment to toy with. At first, the idea came to me when I was terribly sick, but I eventually carried through with it. 
> 
> Either way, hope you enjoyed this ride, comments/kudos are always appreciated!!!


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